Ben Rosenfeld

Today I am interviewing Ben Rosenfeld, a NYC-based comic (soon to be LA) who was born in Leningrad, Russia but considers Stamford, CT his hometown. Ben has been doing comedy for one year. To find out more about Ben, visit his website.

Why did you start doing stand-up comedy?

I think the better question is "Why didn't you start doing stand-up comedy sooner?" Not only have I always insisted on being the center of attention and making anyone within earshot laugh, but my best friend from college, Jay Schultz, is a stand up comedian and I've been his (useless) manager since 2003. (I think Jay has better stage presence than me, but he's currently focusing on other pursuits. You can see Jay's clip here.)

Anyway, last year, I was in Philadelphia every Monday to Thursday for my day job and Jay was in Atlantic City so I decided to be a halfway useful manager (for a change) and proceeded to investigate the comedy scene in Philly for Jay. After watching open mics for two weeks, I decided "I could write this shit". So I returned to the hotel and typed a page and a half of jokes while buzzed. I emailed my jokes to Jay who said, half jokingly, "this is funny enough, you should try it out", so I thought, "why not?"

I spent another week rewriting the jokes, showing it to other friends and trying my best to memorize it, and then I popped my stand up cherry. I was nervous as hell and don't remember being on stage (luckily I taped it, so when I get my HBO special in ten to twelve years, I'll be able to document how far I've come).

Between the adrenaline rush and having everyone's attention on me, I was instantly hooked. (It helped that I got some pity laughs from the audience.)

The great part about being a comic instead of a manager is it's much easier to hound yourself to write new material and get on stage then to get someone else to do it.

When was the last time you bombed and how did you deal?

I thought I bombed at an 8:30 comedy show a few Friday's ago. I was the first comic up after the host for a small crowd and didn't think I was getting any laughs. I obsessed over what I could've done better / different to the point where it interfered with my 10:30 performance. Usually, I'm able to let it go quickly but I kept trying to figure out what happened while grabbing a few drinks at the bar after the show. Of course, when I watched the video tape the next day, it wasn't that bad.

A funny thing happens when you tape all your sets, you realize your subjective experience while in the moment on stage isn't an accurate representation of how well or poorly you did for that show. I mean, if you do really well or really terrible you know, but the 80% of sets that fall between those two extremes can get misinterpreted while in the moment.

To give a more general answer, when I don't do as well as I would've liked, I tell myself that "it's never as good as you think, and it's never as bad as you think". Then I remind myself that I shouldn't judge the set until I see it on tape. Of course, I'll still try to analyze if there was something specific that went wrong. My next step is to try to block it out of my head and focus on my next set -- like a relief pitcher in baseball who doesn't worry about his last blown save. When all that doesn't work I go and distract myself with booze. I try to avoid the "booze because I did poorly" route whenever possible, as I much prefer to "booze cause I killed"...

What is your writing process like?

I'm still figuring out my writing process. Originally I'd just write and rewrite my jokes during work hours (I have a post coming shortly on "how to succeed in corporate America without really trying"), send them to my friends for feedback, rewrite them and then try them out on stage.

Next my writing evolved to carrying around a moleskin and writing whenever I was on a subway, then typing up the half joke, and editing and re-editing it.

I still write down ideas and half punchlines in the moleskin but now I'll work them out into a joke aloud at home (I have a mic and amp) by trying different variations five or ten times and seeing what I laugh at. Then I type it up into my computer. (I use Google Docs so that I can access my jokes from anywhere.) This is the amateur version of writing "on stage." I can't wait for my neighbors to ask me about why I talk to myself through a microphone...

There's a second writing technique I've been using since January: I upload and critique each and every one of my performances on my blog. I literally write out what I did wrong/right at a specific time in the set, or how it could be better. This is really helping me tighten my jokes and take out unnecessary words / phrases. I'm just starting to realize how rewriting and tightening material is just as important, if not more important, then writing new material.